


The Malakim

by themusingsofafangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:59:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themusingsofafangirl/pseuds/themusingsofafangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of a larger work that has since been abandoned, here is a quick glimpse into Castiel's mind circa 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Malakim

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't taken any sort of editorial look at this past an initial glance. Here it lies in all of its 2013 glory. Enjoy!

Lights are pretty, Castiel decides. They remind him of communing with The Host in all of its splendor, each angel a glorious light in of itself. The light flickering just beyond the barrier of his eyelids is nowhere near as bright as that of his brothers and sisters, but it comforts him. He is no longer quite as alone in the world. They are there, watching over him.

Mary Winchester used to tell Dean that angels were watching over him. Castiel wonders if she would have said the same to Sam Winchester had she had the chance to. John Winchester didn’t believe in God. Or angels. Dean believed only because he saw and he had none of the devotion or faith Sam Winchester did. 

He pauses, giving his brain a moment to return to the previous train of thought. Music. Song, specifically. The voices of his brethren rising in praise of the Father Almighty. Perhaps he would teach Dean to sing those most holy songs, if only to have someone to sing with. Sam Winchester would be a better candidate in terms of faith, but Dean always claimed that Sam Winchester “couldn’t sing for shit” which Castiel took to mean as a lack of talent. Plus, Dean was special. He was Righteous. If any human were suited to learn the most holy of songs, it would be him. The Beloved. 

Beloved, what a strange word. Being loved. Be loved. Dean did not know he was beloved. He saw himself as simply a pawn in a larger battle. Sam Winchester and Dean, foretold for ages. Castiel had been hearing of the two brothers since the day of his birth, or rather, creation, all those many millennia ago. “Listen, Castiel, to the story of two brothers.” He had gazed upon the light that was The Morningstar. “Both will be favored by Heaven’s denizens, you know. I’m sure they will be lauded.” He hadn’t known at the time that they would be favored only as weapons. They were never just vessels. They were True Vessels. They would reenact the battle that had traumatized Castiel when he was just a fledgeling. Gabriel had been with him then. It was before he had left. Before, when days were filled with laughter, questions and discovery. The fighting. It was so terrible. So… scary. Castiel reached back into the recesses of his memory, bringing forward the intense abandonment he had felt, not only from Gabriel’s departure, but also from Lucifer and Michael’s. Though Michael was still present in Heaven, his heart (had he had one) was with his closest brother in the bowels of Hell.

That moment was when Castiel became a soldier as he had no other choice. Heaven had lost its sparkle. It was just as bright as ever, but the skies no longer held the natural joy of Phanuel’s praises to the Father. Every angel put off his individuality and picked up a sword. No longer were fledgelings allowed to frolic across prairies on Earth or dive through the depths of the oceans, soaring through the water as if it were air. They were soldiers in training. There was no room for self, merely for self in the context of the whole. No longer were fledgelings raised by siblings. They were now appointed to garrisons with only their superiors as parental figures. 

The old rituals of mate bonding were destroyed. Love had no place in Raphael’s new Heaven. And without love, no new angels were created. There was no one to replenish the reserves of soldiers getting killed off in the battle against Hell. The population of Heaven shrank. Castiel had remembered the rituals of bonding. Raphael could not destroy his memories. An elephant never forgets. Neither does an angel when he wishes to remember. The others had forgotten, had thrown themselves into their new purpose with vigor and enthusiasm. There is no place for love in war. A malakim is no more than what Dean would call a robot. No emotion. No drive for success. Only a mission and its completion.


End file.
